


Shine

by chespin



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: AU, Adam stevens A+ parenting, Boys Kissing, Invisibility, M/M, Other powers, X-men ish?, photokinesis, superpower au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4663800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chespin/pseuds/chespin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A boy with blinding light, and one with no light at all find each other in a world where people hunt, punish and ridicule their kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shimmering

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been in my head for days and I finally had to get it out, enjoy some super powered Jonnor!!

No.This can't be happening. Not to me. I did everything right. No. No. No. No.

I stood in my compact bathroom panicking. Why was this happening to me?

I heard the stories, I'd seen the news. This sort of thing happened to people at puberty. Not one week ago had my crotch began itching with new grown hairs. This was too soon. This was too fast. 

What could I do? Everybody would know. I'd be a freak. Dad would hate me. Mom would hate me. _Fuck_  everyone would hate me. A totally, undeniable, freak.

Everyday for twelve and a half years, I did the same thing. Make dad proud, play baseball, do my homework. _I had done everything right._  Nobody else in my family was like this. Why me? _  
_

Tears streaming down my face, I stood in my tiny bathroom completely helpless. I choked back sobs of confusion and fear. Bile began filling my mouth until I didn't have a choice, I threw it up.

"Connor are you okay in there?" My dad asked. He was on the other side of the door. No way could he know what was going on in here. He must think I'm sick. _I am sick._

Pulling the toilet handle down, the seat loudly began filling with water. Loud enough to drown out my dad demanding I open the door. I could not let him see me like this. He'd kill me. He'd kick me out of the house and never see me again. And he'd make damn sure nobody else in the family did either.

God, what could I do?

Maybe it was just a trick of the light? No way could this be happening. Not to me anyway. There was no logical way my hands could actually be glowing? No. Not me. Not Connor Stevens, the most promising young pitcher in my town. No way could life be this cruel. This was television gold. Stuff of fairy tales and thriller rip offs. This was just a trick of the light. Probably caused by my late night watching Bones.

I laughed, " _Of course this is real dipshit. Life isn't fair. Look who your father is. You think that was your punishment?"_ I thought bitterly. Lying to myself wasn't going to help.

"Connor!" My dad yelled. "Open the god damn door!"

"Just a second!"

I had to think of something. Fast.

 _"Gloves"_  Finally, the first logical thought I'd had all day.

Somehow, I managed to wrangle the woolen gloves on to my hands before my dad nuked himself. "What the hell Connor?". I stood back against the doorframe, fiddling with my new fluffy fingers as he did his usual 'I was worried about you' speech. I think I heard my mom call from the kitchen, but dads constant droning blocked her out. Not surprising, he had a talent for blocking her out. Maybe he's got powers to? If you can call glow in the dark hands powers. I made a mental note to look it up after school. "Do I make myself clear?" He finished.

"Yes sir."

 

\--o--

 

It had been a week since my hands started shimmering. The light faded an hour or so after I got into school. It only sprung up a couple more times; once when kids in gym class picked on me and the rest I was at home for. Thankfully my gloves proved successful in hiding them for all instances.

Staying true to my word, I did manage to look it up. Thank you Google incognito. The little I could find about glowing hands was pretty useless. One theory claimed that it was a mutation of molecules, causing them to glow in dark areas. Not once did my hands glow in any dark areas. The other was that I'd been bitten by a radioactive spider, causing me to be some nuclear weapon designed to glow in extreme heat and eventually blow up. The latter seemed the most unlikely scenario.

After a day or two without finding likely causes for my hand problem, I began speculating my own ideas. Maybe I drank a load of battery acid when I was a kid and now I'm some form of human flashlight? I hope not. But mom did say I was overly keen on putting whatever I could find in my mouth as a baby, including batteries.

Another idea was it was some kind of fire mutation. I'd seen it once or twice on TV, mutants who could actually create fire in their hands! With a flick of their fingers, boom, fire. Aww man that'd be so sick!

Sadly, I attempted that. Not even an ember came out. I sat in my room for over an hour trying, only to end up looking like a fool.  _'The mutants on TV made fire. Their hands glowed too.'._ No amount of wishful thinking was going to make me the next Human Torch.

It had been three days since the fire idea. Ten days since my hands became glow sticks. An hour since my last hand-flash.

The light was getting stronger, brighter. In school it was almost bright enough to seep through the thick gloves. Today was a bad day. I was moody, and my hands new it. I just couldn't figure out where the off switch was with these things. Puberty sucks.

The coach had made me do jumping jacks in front of the entire team, all because Jeremy called me a fag for wearing gloves and I defended myself. He was a jerk. That was today's first light show.

After gym, my history teacher made me recite my notes on the Spanish Crusade aloud. Light show number two.

Incident number three happened on my way home. I was walking the empty street, minding my own business, just wanting to get home, when a car of six or seven high schoolers came out of nowhere and almost hit me. How did they have a license for that deathtrap? That was the biggest light show. Despite my efforts to hold back, light trickled out of my gloves, giving my black clad hands an iridescent shine.

Ten days and I'd had enough. I'd had enough of being a freak. I'd had enough of being a walking finger lamp. 

 _"Its what you deserve. You deserve it for being different. A freak. Jeremy's right. You are a fag. A glow in the dark queer. Everyone knows it. That's why your dad hates you!"_  I was too tired to keep the thoughts at bay. Too angry.

"Shut up!" I scalded myself.

An old lady across the street looked horrified by me. Talking to myself. Confirmed freak.

Irritated, my hands continued to glow. My hands shining like a beacon, a beacon to alert people I was different.

I ran. I tucked my sparkling hands under my plaid shirt and ran. I didn't stop until I got to my house. Quickly and shakily, I turned the key in my hand and opened the door. With years of experience, I made a beeline for stairs and into my room. Instantly I heard movement downstairs. Even with my back against my bedroom door I could hear my dad mumbling to himself quickly. I could almost taste the Jack Daniels he'd been drinking.

_"He knows. He knows your a freak and he's gonna get you for it."_

My gloved hands quickly covered my ears. "Shut up!" I called to my thoughts. "Please!". It was pointless, my inner monologue just mocked me.

"What the fuck did you just say to me boy?!" My dad called to me from the hallway.  _Shit._ He heard me.

I rocked back and forth against the door. Rocks being enhanced by the kicks the door was taking. I heard wood crack. I felt his feet beat the door where my spine was.

Crying, I looked down at my hands, the light being immited growing stronger by every missed heartbeat. "This is all your fault." I spat. "If you didn't happen I'd be normal." My hands remained silent. The light spilled from every little crack in the gloves fabric. They were useless now.

The door gave way. I had only a split second to link the from cracking to what was about to happen. Terrified, I moved just in time before the beaten and broken plank that was my bedroom door fell. In its threshold, my father, accompanied by his lifelong friend Jack Daniels.

"My fault?" He laughed drunkenly, "you think its my fault? Boy Connor you are a piece of work you know that? Its  _your_ fault your mom walked out on us. Couldn't stand to be around a son that's as pathetic as you! Maybe she'all have a new son that'll actually know how to be a man instead of cry like a little bitch behind his door. What's the matter Con? Your boyfriend dump you? Queer."

 _What did he just say?_  My tear filled eyes flicked up to meet his.

"That's right slugger!" Adam chimed maniacally, "Mommy's gone. Just us now."

No. That can't be true, mom would never leave us. Never leave me. Not with him. No. No. No. No.

My hands flew up to cradle my eyes. I'd cracked. I wouldn't survive without her. Not alone. Not with him.

The light had stopped radiating from my hands. 

"And" Dad took a swig of his whiskey and began.

Hands at my sides, my eyes met his again.

"Its"

My fists clenched.

"All"

I was so angry at him. This was his fault. All his fault. Not mine.

"Your"

He did something to her, and she stopped caring. I  _know_ he did.

"Fault"

I snapped. Adrenaline over powering me, I let impulse take control. He was so close to me, no way it would miss. I raised both of my hands, still clenched in rage, and slapped them on my fathers chest. Hands flat on him for no more than a second. That's all it took. A second for a bright flash if slivery light to send him flying back into my wall.

He crashed into my dresser, the force breaking it almost in half. He lay there, unconscious. Unconscious and smoldering. There were two hand sized burns branded into his chest. They had burned through the thin layer of material and branded him.

I looked down at my father. He was hurt, but he was breathing.

I looked down at my palms, the thick wool completely burned away.

"What the fuck?"

 

\--Four Years Later--

 

Jesus Christ! I turned sixteen yesterday for gods sake. I deserved a present. The chances of my family FedExing me a gift from Arizona was very unlikely. Hell, it would be either a miracle or an omen that any of them knew the address of an abandoned building in the middle of San Francisco. But hey, my whole life is pretty much a series of omens.

I pulled the brown confectionery to my mouth and dug in. Chocolate icing coating my lips. It never gets old, they say food tastes nicer when its free, I say it tastes nicer stolen but whatever.

Expertly, I clean the icing from my leather gloves. 

"After four years, stealing just gets easier and easier" I said to the pigeons I shared the rooftop with. They cooed with agreement. As did my stomach.

With a newfound, sugar aided, spring in my step I began my way out of the building that had come to be my home. After five months here, it really had become a home. I drew the graffiti, but punks would break in looking for a safe place to hook up or shoot up, I'd scare them away with some quality light entertainment. 

"There you go San Francisco, don't say I never did anything for ya!" I chimed as I made my way onto the busy streets. People generally steered clear of me. They moved as I walked down the street. It was nice. I dont know whether it was my mutation aided muscle tone, or just my homeless aura that made them move. On the city streets it was a welcome plus.

I'm not sure why San Francisco, I'm not sure how. Hitch hiking and trains got me here. They'd get me out too if I wanted. I don't know why, but I kinda like it here? Apart from the citizens general distaste for me, it was vaguely a nice place. If the food bank was open, I'd go get a good meal. If the library was open, I'd go steal a good book. It was easy. To top it all off, mutants didn't get much stick here. Maybe its because they don't wreak havoc here, but it seems to be a more resolved issue of the people of my good city, they just don't give a shit.

Strolling through the alleyways and streets that parted like the red seas, I eventually found myself at the news stand. Walking past, my leather sheathed fingers quickly pocketed a newspaper. 

An hour or two later and I found myself perching on my favourite wall in the building. Scattered below my feet was today's loot: three cans of Dr Pepper, a can of Pringles and some pop tarts, all resting on my paper.

"Fuck it" I started, "let's see what America has for me this week". In general, I don't really care what's going on. But it helps to keep track of Sweepers; groups of humans who like to think they're bounty hunters specializing in mutants.

What caught my eye though was instead, a mutant. ' _Mike Foster Wins Campaign'._ Mike was this mutant rights activist, from what I heard he was actually a decent guy, for a politician. Winning all sorts of campaigns for mutants all across San Francisco. Yet here I was, living in a damn abandoned office building. _  
_

Bored of politics, I drew my attention to the funnies. Being a homeless sixteen year old, you take whatever laughs you can get. 

After finishing two sodas and a quarter of my Pringles, I must've fell asleep. 

When I woke up I was not alone. Someone was stood over me, watching me. Without thinking, I raised my left hand and blasted him. Light burning straight through his formal pants I bolted, desperate to escape. Bad things happen to kids on the street. I haven't had the pleasure of experiencing it first hand, but I'm not eager to join the club.

I only ran yards before I tripped, overcome with sleep. Before I drifted off I looked up at the greying man standing over me.


	2. Blinding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone could be triggered, there is mention of rape/non consent in this chapter.

_"What the fuck?"_  I groaned.

So many questions raced in my head before I could even open my eyes. What happened? Where was I? How did I get here? Who the fuck was that asshole who did this to me?

Rumors about living on the streets made my heart race. Sometimes, when you're a young kid on the street, you get drugged and it all goes downhill from there. You get sold of to pimps, beaten, killed. Sure felt like I was drugged. It was like somebody filled my blood with heroin.  The only question now was what happened next? People have tried to beat me down before, it never works in their favor but bless them, they do try. I'm not dead, that's for sure. Looks like I got myself a night job.  _Fuck, that._ I've seen people like me go into that game; they end up a raped, crazed mess. I won't be like that. I'll kill any guy who so much as looks at my junk.

The drugs hadn't worked its way out of me yet. My limbs were aching and heavy, I couldn't open my eyes yet. For the first time in forever, my light was lazy, not begging to get loose. I could feel the luminescence slowly working through my muscles. Very slowly. No way was I blasting anyone soon.

I could feel a bed though. A soft pillow under my head and scratchy sheets underneath me. It's been a while, but I remembered the luxury of a bed. Maybe my pimps one of the rich fuckers. If he keeps me drugged I won't be able to fight, just lie back and make him money. Not being able to open my eyes seems like a good thing. If this is how it goes I hope they never open.

No. I have to get out of here. 

Not gonna end up like that, some used up old whore is not how I wanna end it. If I'm gonna die, its gonna be on my terms. And I'll be damned if this is what's in store for me. I'm a survivor first, mutant second and a shit load of things after that. I don't intend to add 'some creeps play thing' to the list.

I had to move. No matter how hard it would be, I had to make my legs work. I could feel my muscles twitch, so im not paralysed. It may take some time but I'll move again.

Eyes first, legs second. If I can see where I'm going this'll be much easier.

They were heavily, and reluctant to open. After five or so minutes of trying I finally opened them. The room was a blur of light, with brown wooden panels seeping through. Maybe this is what those punks see when I blast them directly? A wall of blinding light just burning you? And boy, if this compares at all to mine, God does it burn.

I squinted my eyes as they adjusted to my new surroundings. It was actually, not all that bad. The walls were wooden and they matched the floorboards. This made the medical equipment piled around the bed look very out of place.

"Medical equipment?" I whispered. What sort of brothel was this? The few I've seen don't have the resources or the compassion to need or want any of this. If the 'tute died or got injured then so be it. 

I squirmed in my bed, my body slowly regaining contriol. Material rubbed against the sheets. I was in a gown.  _Holy shit._ What've they done to me? Are they some sick organ harvesters or something?

My arms achingly reached for the gown. With enormous effort, somehow I managed to rib it off of me, leaving me completely exposed. That wasn't the point. I had to see if they'd turned me into some kinda Frankenstein's monster.

To my relief, they hadn't. Not a scratch on me. They cuts and bruises I'd gained over the past few weeks had disappeared. The scars from my years on the streets had all but vanished. It was like they'd rebooted me. Apart from the drug induced headache, I felt fine. My body was still incredibly tired, but I was fine.

What the fuck is going on?

If this were a brothel, I'd probably have been violated by now. Its not some sick organ farm, I'd be missing things I'd definitely miss. 

I haven't been this lost and confused since I got drunk off my moms sangria back before my life went to hell. What a road its been.

Eventually I layed back down, waiting for the inevitable. Whatever this place was, I'd know soon enough. If I was lucky, my wait would be long. Long enough for me to regain my strength and kill the fuckers who put me here.

My wait was not long. It was twenty minutes at best. I just started moving my legs when someone walked through the door.

"Oh. You're awake. That was fast." He was young, no doubt my age. Give or take a year. He was skinny and tall. It was easy to differentiate between the homeless teens and the safe teens. This kid was clearly of the safe variety. Clean clothes, washed hair, probably never missed a meal in his life. If he kept talking this would be easy. My legs would work and I'd be able to take him down. Simple. "Mike's sedation usually works for at least a week."

"Yeah well, I've had worse." Sedation? How'd he do that from that far away?

"I'm sure you have, tough guy." He was teasing me. The little shit was actually teasing me.

"You don't know who you're messing with kid." I threatened. I was so tired, my body still not ready. But every inch of me wanted to punch him. I had to. This runt might be the only thing keeping me from getting out of here. I pulled my fist back, ready to swing.

"Woah there, easy. No one's gonna hurt you here. You're safe."

"Like fuck I am! Where am I?"

"A safe place."

_A safe place, sure it was._

You have to be completely insane to think abducting me and telling me I was safe was a good idea. I seriously doubt this loser could've managed to get me here, but he was pissing me off. Usually, people who piss me off get a nice helping of light straight at them. That's what I wanted to do; blast this kid through the wall.

"What's going on in here?" A woman appeared through the door. She was blond haired and looked around forty. I made a rule to never hurt a woman, but if she was gonna try and keep me here against my will, then she's just another hurdle I gotta break down.

"He's confused and upset. I came in here to check on him like you asked and he went crazy." The brown haired kid said.

What a kiss-ass.

The woman slowly walked over to me. It was strange, I  _was_ angry. I wanted to hurt them. But the closer she got, the more than feeling drained away. Anger being replaced by some sort of calm I haven't felt in a long time.

"You're okay love. Nobody here wants to hurt you." She placed her hand on my naked shoulder and all the feelings of hurting them and escaping were gone.

"My name is Stef. This is Jude, he's been keeping an eye on you since you got here."

"Where am I?" I asked.

"Like Jude said, a safe place. My home to be exact."

None of this made sense. Why would they be kind to me? They dont owe me anything. I have nothing they could want. And why was I in her home? In what I assumed had to be one of her beds? My mind was even more confused than it had when I woke up here.

"How did I get here?"

"Mike Foster, he does a few jobs for me. He brought you here." She answered. Her hand was gone but her words kept me at peace.

Mike Foster? That guy from the papers? The mutant?

"Sorry hun, he said you were panicked. Said you blasted light at him. He had to sedate you."

He did this? How the hell could he do this to me? Make me feel like a professional drug addict?

"Mike has the ability to stimulate natural sedatives in your body. He knocked you out cold."

"How long?" I asked. Her words unable to keep me from confusion. I looked around for answers.

"Two and a half days." The boy interjected. _Jude?_  Weird name.

All this new information and I was just starting to piece it all together. Mike put me here, for reasons I had no clue about. How I'd healed was a mystery still. This Jude kid watched over me, for two and a half days, just because someone told him to.

A 'safe place' is what they both said. 'Safe' was a word I'd long stopped using. Nowhere was safe for me. How can they think I believe them? 

The really weird part: I kind of do believe them. They could've done anything to me, two days would be an easy time to do so. But they didn't. The way they spoke about Mike and his freaky ability was almost natural, like this place was used to the discussion of mutants and their gifts.

"While you're here, you will obey the rules. You're free to go whenever you please but as long as you are here, Jude will supervise you. If you're going to stick around, you might just want to get along with him." Stef said, the air of peace no longer in her voice. It was replaced by an air of authority. No way did I wanna mess with her.

I looked over at Jude. His stare was intimidating, like he was staring not at me, but my soul. Jude wasn't afraid of me the way the other kids my age I'd met were, not an ounce of fear for me was in him.

"Gotta name tough guy?" Asked Jude, cockiness lacing his voice.

"Connor."

  

\--o--

 

I spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, my body still recovering. Jude left quickly after I told him my name. I was glad. I had so much to process, I needed time on my own.

Stef had offered to let me stay. In her  _home._ This kind of charity is rarely afforded to people like me. For now, I had no choice but to stay. As soon as I'm good to go, I will. I'll find out whatever it is that's going on in here, but I'll go afterwards.

By 5pm I was ready to get up. My legs obeyed me and my arms clenched when I needed them to. With no interest in preserving the room, I tried to conjur my light. I built up the energy, as usual, and flashed my hands in the direction of the wall. Nothing. Not even a spark projected outwards. My body was ready to start, but my light wasn't ready to shine just yet.

With little interest in staying in my bed, I started to make my way out of the room. I felt  _light_. It was only when I reached for the doorhandle I remembered I was naked. Clothes would most likely be a necessity if I wanted to explore my temporary surroundings. I had to think. There were dressers and cabinets in the room with me. I'd check them. Stef or Jude or whoever had probably put my clothes in the dresser. My clothes were not in either, so I made do with a size to small vest and some sleep shorts.

Newly clothed, I ventured outside of my prison. It was big. A manor maybe? I didn't know. Real estate wasn't exactly an interest for me when I was starving under overpasses. What I did know, was that this wasn't the kind if house you let a homeless teenager like me into. Too many expensive valuables for me to steal. "No" I scolded myself. They know my name, they know my face. They'd find me in an hour tops.

Despite the interior, the place was definitely lived in. Shoes were scattered and I even saw a few toys. A skateboard caught my eye. If I were here four years ago I would have jumped on the chance to practise my tricks. That was a long time ago.

All too soon I bumped into Jude, my watcher. "Hey Jude." I said. Hopefully he'd make small talk and leave me be.

"What're you doing?"

"Am I not allowed too look around the place?"

My questioned was answered with a disapproving look. I guess I wasn't.

"Come on." He turned his back on me and started walking. "You wanted to look around, let me show you."

He turned to walk again, this time I followed.

I was right about the house, it was definitely lived in. Kids from all over San Francisco lived here. One was even on the streets before he came here. Stef and her wife Lena looked after kids here. Their very own safe haven. 

What struck me as odd was the couples willingness to help these kids. Why were they doing this? They had nothing to gain. All of these kids lived here off the records, so Jude said. The two women couldn't claim money for any of them. These people were giving kids a home and food for free.

This type of thing doesn't really happen. Not in real life.

"Come on," Jude said as we were half way through a hallway. "Dinner's being served."

"How can you tell?"

"Every day at 6:20, like clockwork."

 _Food._  Not only food, but  _cooked_ food. It had been so long since I'd had a warm meal, it felt like a dream. Back on the streets I couldn't even go to a shelter. Sure they had somewhat hot food, but a sixteen year old walking into one of those? I might as well call social services myself.

I almost sprinted down the stairs, my nose leading me to whatever food I'd eat. I easily found the kitchen. A large wooden table centered the room, lined with chairs, only a few being occupied.

Jude sat down, and I on the other side of him. A girl with wildly tangled hair sat next to me. She was younger than me, I could tell, but not by much.

"Hey!" She squicked.

"Hi?" I hated this. Being pressured to talk to someone was not okay with me. Jude and I barely spoke when he was showing me around, it was nice.

"I'm Daria," god her voice was annoying. "Welcome to The Adams Fosters. A.F. for short."

I said thank you politely. She was irritating but she was trying with me. I must stink fierce too, I have'nt showered in weeks. I'll make sure to after the meal.

Quickly more and more faces joined the table. Stef appeared and kissed her wife,  _Lena?_ Jude said her name was. The act of affection struck me. My parents never kissed, never showed any sign of love. The did however, love to reinforce the lesson that 'gay was not okay'. I was young and it was what I knew, and it made sense to me. It was until I was on the streets that I realised how wrong they were. Around my fourteenth birthday, I met a girl. She was a mutant like me. A year older and a year wiser she took me under her wing. Showed me what it was to be on the streets. Showed me how to defend myself, and only use my powers when needed. I wanted to like her, the same way she liked me, but I just couldn't. I tried, so hard, it just didn't work. I knew I was gay. I never told her, or anyone. But I knew. My parents would be so proud, a gay mutant for their son.

My trip down memory lane was quickly interrupted when a plate was passed to me, big steaming burrito laying on its side just for me. I quickly added salad and dug in. It was good. Very good. Even the occasional stolen burrito didn't compare to this. I hadn't had home cooked food in a long time.

"Hungry Connor?" Stef asked from the end of the table. I looked up at her.  _What do you think?_ Try being homeless and not hungry. I ignored her and continued eating, earning strange looks from the others at the table.

I managed to get a second burrito when I looked up at Jude. He was still eating his first, completely ignoring me. He was adding ketchup to his.  _Freak._

A new voice was directed at me, "so Mike says you blasted him with light? What was that about? That your power" the Latino boy looked at me with a annoyed look. I nodded.

"No way!" The girl on his left chimed. She was Latina, maybe a relative of his. "You're photokinetic. That's awesome!"

"Excuse me?" I asked. I hadn't been to school in over three years, how am I supposed to know what photokinetic means?

"Your power." She stated. "That's what its called. I've only read about it online, its pretty rare. But what I've read says that mutants who have this power, channel light through their bodies to utilize them as either a harmless or combustible force."

This girl was a walking database. For at least fifteen minutes she went on and on about my light, my gift, like it was some super awesome power to be reckoned with. It made me proud.

She continued to say how everyone here had their own gift. Some harmless, some kind of dangerous. But this was a place we can live and harness our gifts safely.

As much as my gut said to not trust this place. It was kind of nice.

 

\--o--

 

 Everyone in the house, except Lena and Stef, had to share a bathroom. We all got our own rooms, but we had to share a bathroom. Obviously, my turn was last.

Man did it feel great. Hot water pouring down my back, soap on my muscles, I was in heaven. I could feel my light spreading all through my body, rejuvenating me. I felt better than I had in months.

Stepping out from the shower I wrapped a towel around my waste and set out back to my room.

Even though I was still wet, this time I didn't care. I haven't been in this good of a mood in a very long time. I wanted to stay. I couldn't.

"Hello Connor." Said Daria. She was behind me. Distracted by my mood I hadn't even noticed her. She looked me up and down with a strange look about her.

"Hi Daria. What're you doing out here?" I asked. People never gave me these looks. It made me uneasy to say the least.

"I just wanted too talk." She said, inching closer to me, "but looking at you now I think the topics changed". She looked at me, smiling like a dewy eyed school girl at the candy shop. I didn't like it.

"You're hot, I'm hot. Why don't you and I go on a date?" She asked.

Ive met this girl once and she's already hitting on me.

"Umm, sorry Daria I can't." I said, hoping she'd get the message.

She didn't. She inched even closer too me.

"Come on stud, its not like you have anything better to do." She cooed, constantly getting closer and closer.

"I said no Daria!" Somewhat shouting. People would've heard me, but I didn't care. She was creeping me out.

Daria completely entered my personal space. She put her hand on my bicep and petted me, like a wet dog.

The interaction had gained the attention of two of the housemates. Jude and the Latina girl were stood at the end of the hall watching the display. Daria was none the wiser. I risked a glance at Jude, my eyes begging for help.

"Connor, come on." Daria's hand was getting lower down my body. Her flirtatious tone becoming all the more desperate. I was becoming all the more agitated. "We can go to the movies. You and me,  _alone._ I'll even let you fuck me?" She suggested, her fingers brushing the hem of my towel.

I'd had enough. This irritating girl had entered my space and now she had gone to far.

Without thinking, maybe even on instinct, I reached my left hand out and before I knew it my light had blasted her towards the wall. She fell gracelessly from the wall and lay on the floor, clearly unconscious.

Jude and the Latina girl starred from their view point. Even from here I could see the look of horror on their faces.

I ran back to my room.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I'm so fucked.

 


	3. Into the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I've had a major case of the flu :(  
> Hope you enjoy!!!

"Connor open the door!"

"Connor I'm not leaving until you open up!"

"Seriously Connor open the damn door now!"

Jude had been assaulting my door for a while now. He saw what happened to Daria, he should be scared of me. I didn't want to blast her. Its just, when people agrivate me or when I'm freaked, I can't control it.

"Marianna's taken Daria back to her room. She'll be okay." Jude called through the wood.

That wasn't the point. Of course, I did want her to be okay. But the fact that I had lost control like that... It made me a problem. I've always been a problem.

I was curled in my towel against the far wall, as far as I could get from the door in this small room. I had long dried off, the heat from the light probably helped with that. I had to be alone. Jude couldn't come in. Nobody could come in. I'm to emotional right now, I might not be able to stop if i start glowing again. I didn't want anyone else to be hurt because of me. These were good people, they don't deserve it.

"Please. Just let me in Connor. We can talk about this. No one is going to hurt you."

 _Hurt me?_  That was ironic. As far they know I could be a ticking time bomb, ready to blow at any moment and take everyone here with me.

Jude must be really naive to think that once everyone had found out what I'd done, they wouldn't at least try to hurt me. I would if the shoe was on the other foot.

They should just hand me into the Sweepers. Let them take care of me. Hell, let them do whatever they want to me. I've given up caring.

It's strange. I never felt any sense of morality or compassion throughout my years on the streets. No one was willing to spare any change, some food or even a glove. I was left to rot on the streets without anyone to care for me. Then I wake up here, with people I don't know and they don't know me. But they gave me food, clothes, a roof over my head and I fucked it up. I lost it because of some schoolgirl with a crush I can't reciprocate. I lost my temper and I'll surely pay the price.

Jude stopped knocking. He must've gave up, that or got too tired to care. It didn't matter which one.

With no one demanding entrance, I got dressed and lead down on the bed for the last night. "I'll leave tomorrow" I whispered to myself. 

"Connor, its Marianna. I'm coming in."

"Go away!" I yelled.

The door started to blur slightly, like it was smoke in a witches ball. Through the blur, Marianna passed through. I sat up, startled at what I just saw. It wasn't common for me to meet other mutants, even less common for me to see them use their gifts.

She turned a fraction, only to unlock the door and open it.

Marianna walked over to me. I was sure she was going to scald me something fierce, resulting in her asking me to leave the house. Instead, the raven haired Latina sat next to me.

"Molecular deconstruction." She said calmly.

I looked at her with ignorant eyes. This was the second time she'd assumed a homeless sixteen year old knew big words.

"It's my mutation; it allows me to deconstruct my molecular structure so I can pass through physical objects. Since me and my brother are twins we kind of share the same gift, to an extent. Jesus can change his molecular structure to mimic that of his surroundings. I could use my gift to pass through the wooden door, whereas Jesus could turn his molecules into the molecules of the door's. We have an incredible gift Connor."

"Its a curse, they all are. All I do is hurt people. Most of the time I don't have too, I just do. I can't stop it."

"Connor, look at me." She turned my cheek in her direction, "you have an amazing gift. One so rare perhaps only two percent of all mutants have only a degree of it. All you have to do is learn control."

_Control._

_"_ Controlling it is the easy part, finding out your trigger points is the hard part." Jude's voice rang through the air. His ghostly cry had no effect on Marianna, I was freaked. Is that Jude's power? Voice emmition? Or whatever this is. Maybe he's a ghost? I bolted up from Marianna's side, ready to find him.

"Relax tough guy," Jude's voice whispered again. "I'm right here." An indention appeared more obvious on my bed, the empty side of Marianna. From the minor dent in the mattress, Jude appeared.

"What the fuck?" I stuttered.

"Photomanipulation" Jude stated. _People need to lay off the big words._  

"Basically, I can manipulate light particles to make myself or my surroundings invisible."

Jude looked so proud. Why wouldn't he be? He just showed perfect control of his photo... Whatever it is. Anyway, Jude has no reason to fear his power. His power can't kill. Or burn. Or blind.

I never really noticed his eyes before. Now, on my bed, they were obvious. Of course I'd seen them before, they were chocolate brown. But right here they were so much more. They were glowing. Shining with pride and hope. Maybe it was an after shock of his powers, but damn did it suit him.

The boy was staring at me. Eyes locked onto mine as if they were about to fire missiles. It was as if I was the invisible one, and he was looking straight through me. Looking at something far more meaningful and worthy than I ever could be. 

My skin began to tickle and itch. The intensity of my and Jude's stare off was affecting my light. It was as if Jude excited my light. I could feel the energy rushing through me, begging to get out. To meet Jude.  _No. Not Jude. Not him._

"Speaking of powers you two." Marianna finally broke the silence.

The electricity in the air was thick with power. When mutants use their powers to some extent, depending on how much of their power they used, they'd give off an energy. It was as if they'd left a part of their aura behind. We have no control over it. Sadly the Sweepers know this, giving them a very effective way to track us individually. I'm generally surprised, given how much I use my power (offensively and recreationally) that the Sweepers haven't found me yet. I've had run ins, but they haven't showed much interest.

Still,  _its only a matter of time._

"I have a theory." Marianna snapped me back into reality. Jude was this time directing his attention to the Latin mutant, only less powerfully. "Jude's Photomanipulation and Connor's Photokinesis, maybe you're powers are linked? The way Connor can channel his light through his body, and the way Jude can manipulate the light around him. Boys, you two could be very interesting."

She finished her train of thought and was flitting her curious eyes back and forth between Jude and I. Her head filled with wonderful fantasy about the link Jude and me could hold, how our powers may be directed from a gene we share.

I'll give it to her, it was a nice idea. Farfetched, but still nice. It really would be good to have some form of metaphysical connection to someone. And Jude was nice enough, why not?

 _Not to mention he's pretty cute._ My wandering mind startled me. I agreed with the idea, but I don't even know Jude. He didn't know me. What I was capable of.

"Man, is that the time?" Marianna looked at her phone gasping. "I gotta get to bed."

"Goodnight Marianna" Jude called.

"Night." I said awkwardly. Homeless people don't bid 'goodnights'. We all usually wait to be the last to sleep, our eyes directed to whoever we are unfortunate enough to share the night with.

The girl left for her room. Leaving Jude, alone, with me.

What was I supposed to say now? 'Hey Jude you're cute but don't reject me or else I may burn you to cinders'? 

 I warped my hands together, keeping them busy. Just in case I got to excited and they decided this room could use fireworks.

_Not that I'd mind fireworks. Fireworks with Jude._

Stop it.

"Connor?" Jude looked over at me, stopping the anxiety in its tracks. The light in his eyes had gone, they were filled with a sad look. It didn't suit Jude to wear his eyes like that, to fill them with shame. "When did you know?"

_Oh my god. He knows. He saw me looking at him and he knows. Shit._

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

"I mean... When did you know. You were..."  _Dont say it. "_ a mutant?"

_Thank the stars above._

"I was twelve. Scared and twelve." I didn't like telling this story. I rarely told it. Bile would rise to my throat, tears would leak. On one recollection I actually blasted the girl who'd asked.

I would not blast Jude. I would control myself.

"Oh." Jude stared at his lap. "I was fourteen."

Only two years of having his power and he can execute it flawlessly. I'm pathetic.

 _'Daddy would be so proud of his pathetic homo mutant'_ I pinched my skin. Fighting the thoughts.

"How did you find out?" Jude asked.

Reluctantly, I shared my coming of age story. How one minute I was 'daddys perfect all american son' the next, a glowing monster. 

Jude never interrupted me, he sat there watching. His eyes weren't judging as I expected, they were warm and wonderful. This boy I'd known for less than a week was listening, accepting me for something I wasn't. Jude was acting as if this were normal, that I wasn't a freak. I was anything but  _normal._

I let out a sigh of relief as soon as I'd finished. I hadn't really told anybody that before. Not in full at least. It felt good to get it off my chest. After sitting in silence for a moment I looked at him, giving him a half smile.

As our eyes met, I found his already trained on mine. Like a puppy eagerly awaiting a walk. He looked loyal. My smile instantly spread further across my face. Who was this guy?

Jude conjured a smile of his own. A breathtaking smile at that. "I guess I'm lucky then," his eyes fell from mine and onto the floor below. "For me it happened in school. I used to get bullied quite a bit, and at that time I was about as timid as you could get. Every time a door so much as creaked I'd flinch, it was super embarrassing." 

I crossed my legs on the now messy sheets, listening intently at this mystery before me as he spoke.

"One time though, this guy, Cole I think his name was. Well he and this group of jocks followed me from my class at lunch. They called me a whole bunch of names, that I could ignore. Then they got physical. I freaked. The next thing I knew they screamed and ran, as well as everyone else who saw,. Turns out when I get scared I turn invisible! My sister Callie was furious. We ran away from our foster home as soon as the parents found out."

"Where is she? Your sister."

"I don't know. We got separated a month before I came here. I was fifteen last time I saw her."

"I'm sorry man."

I looked at him, with what I hoped were sympathetic eyes. I caught his attention and gained a small smile.

How did he cope? I was always alone, never had nobody when I was on the streets. But Jude? He has a sister somewhere. Someone who's probably looking for him. How's he keeping it together? 

The mystery boy in front of me was a lot more than an invisible mutant. And the more I listened to his story, the clearer it became that his life was definitely not transparent.

"Look Connor," he spoke "its getting late, I should go get some sleep.

_No, don't._

_Stay here._

_With me._

"Uhh.. Okay." I croaked lamely.

He lifted his long legs and stepped towards the door. Jude turned and looked at me, the honest brown eyes directly at me. "Goodnight Connor. Its going to be okay."

"Night Jude."

I watched as he walked away. Leaving me alone in my room.

After what I did, why would he want to spend time with me? Consoling  _me._  Why did Marianna come and open herself up to judgement, just to make me feel better?

Why is Jude so willing to trust me? So willing to make an effort? Why was he making me feel as if I could belong here? As if I could be someone, have a life, have a future? Like he wanted me around.

Like he wanted to be around  _me._

_'What are you doing Connor?'_

 

\--o--

 

Somehow I woke up lying in a mess of pillows and blankets. I don't remember falling asleep, just that my dreams were occupied by chocolate eyes and blinding fireworks.

It was early.  _Too early. 7am early._ Even on the streets I woke up around nine.

"First shower!" I whispered gleefully to myself, lucky that no one could hear me.

I spend a long time in the shower, cleaning every off bit of dirt I didn't have on me. It was nice to be able to do this. I'd take advantage of it as much as I could. Before I have to leave. Leave  _Jude._

I unceremoniously exited the bathroom, towel around my wet hips I began the descent to my temp room. Nobody was awake yet, I could do this.

Standing outside my door though, was the only person in the house awake. The boy who'd infiltrated my dreams last night, Jude. 

And he was crying.

The pajama clad teen stood blankly facing me. His eyes were no longer full of hope and warmth, they had been filled with dread and sadness.

_'I gotta stop running into people after my shower. Nothing good happens.'_

Apart from his harrowing eyes, his knuckles had lost color. They were almost crush in the telephone in his shaking hand.

"Jude" I called, "what's wrong man?"

' _I swear I will roast whoever it was who made Jude feel like this until they are dust on the sidewalk.'_ _  
_

He lifted his tear stained eyes and gave me a look that almost killed me.

"Callie... They've got Callie."

 

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr I'm holdmypinkie


End file.
